


The Thrill of the Hunt

by Gin_Juice



Series: picture book [12]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allison tries to bond, Ben is a backseat driver, Diego needs a nap, Dysfunctional Family, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Five is struck by the Christmas spirit, HARD, Klaus is pretty over both of them, Luther just wants to garden, POV Alternating, Team Dynamics, Vanya's first mission does not go great, like he owes the Christmas spirit money
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21901831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gin_Juice/pseuds/Gin_Juice
Summary: Vanya pressed the doorbell and waited.And waited.She wrapped her arms around herself to brace against the freezing gusts of wind. It was strange that it was taking so long for anybody to answer, wasn’t it? She hoped nothing was wrong.Then Allison flung the door open wearing her PJs and no makeup, and Vanya knew something was wrong.“Oh, Vanya!” She sounded a little out of breath and a lot frazzled. “Here, come in, we just—you didn’t see Mom outside, did you?”“Uh…no?” Vanya stepped into the house and balled her scarf up in her hands. “Should I have seen her?”Allison let out a shaky sigh. “No, but it would make everything easier.” She tugged at a lock of her hair. “We can’t find her.”____________________________The Umbrella Academy is reunited for their first mission in a very long time. Meanwhile, Grace is on a mission of her own.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: picture book [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1335751
Comments: 78
Kudos: 463





	The Thrill of the Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series, but you don't have to read previous installments to follow along. Basically- the Apocalypse has been averted, and the kids are trying to be a real family. The boys plus Dave's ghost live at the Academy. Ben is now the proud owner of two cats, and Luther has taken up gardening. Mom and Pogo are alive, but Pogo has left the chat, probably for good.

**Time: 7:17 a.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Kitchen**

**Population:** ~~3~~ **4**

“All I’m saying is, it doesn’t make sense that the people you pick to come look at cars with you are the girl who’s never owned one, and the only person in the family who still can’t drive.”

Five took a bite of his toast and brushed the crumbs off the newspaper without looking up. “Should I bring you instead? Tell me everything you know about cars. I’ll wait.”

“At least _I_ can talk to people who know what they’re doing,” Klaus chipped in smugly as he tried to wipe orange marmalade out of his hair. “I am a valued member of the car-buying team! Also, let the record show that Ben doesn’t have a license, either.”

Diego grunted and took a swig of his protein shake. “Ben doesn’t count.”

Ben leaned down to speak in Klaus’s ear. “Call him a dick.”

“Ben says you’re a dick.”

“No, not from me!” Ben protested. “It has to come from you or else nobody believes it.”

“No he doesn’t,” Diego told Klaus. “He knows what I meant.”

“See!”

Klaus sneezed into his elbow, then thrust his GOODBYE hand in Ben’s face, palm out.

Ben settled back to lean against the wall with an irritated huff. Klaus was good at making him physical these days—like, really good at it—but he’d been struggling this past week. He’d come down with a cold and the medicine made him just muzzy-brained enough to inhibit his powers, and Ben didn’t want him to push himself while he was feeling under the weather.

Except he sort of _did_ want to him to push himself, because listening to everyone put words in his mouth was annoying as balls.

Luther wandered into the kitchen through the back door, looking grim.

“Guys,” he said solemnly. “I really think the onions are dead.”

“Oh my God,” Diego muttered.

“You have no idea if the onions are dead,” said Five. He used the tone of voice people did when they were having the same conversation for the millionth time, because they _were_ having the same conversation for the millionth time. “You won’t have any idea if the onions are dead until springtime. Leave the onions alone.”

“No, seriously. I think that last frost killed them.” Luther glanced around the table for support. “Maybe I should dig some up and check.”

Five leaned forward on his elbows. “Luther,” he said. “If you dig up your onions and it turns out they were fine, and then you get upset because now you ruined your onions, don’t expect an ounce of sympathy from me.”

“Okay. Yeah. You’re probably right.” Luther worried at a loose thread on his sleeve. “Maybe just one or two.”

Klaus snorted, and set off a coughing fit.

“Good morning, children!” their mother called. She swept into the kitchen, plus a laundry basket, and minus her usual smile.

“Are you alright, Mom?” Diego asked immediately.

“Oh, yes, dear.” She set the basket on the table. “I lost the button on my sweater, you see.”

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Oh. Thank you, dear, aren’t you sweet?” That got her to smile, though it looked more robotic than it normally did. “It’s a very nice sweater.”

Diego stepped forward and took her gently by the shoulders for a moment. “I’ll find you one that’s even better,” he promised.

“If he was half this nice to girls he dated, he’d be married by now,” observed Ben.

Klaus started coughing again.

Luther stepped back from the fridge with half a grapefruit and began untangling the saran wrap. Allison was on a diet, she had said, and he was trying to stick to it with her in a show of support. Ben thought anyone starting a diet the week before Christmas was doomed to fail, but Klaus had told him to can it when he asked him to tell Allison so.

“Is Allison still in bed?” Luther asked. “We should probably wake her up before Vanya comes over. She hasn’t seen her yet.”

Five glanced up from the paper. “We’re leaving as soon as she gets here. Let Allison sleep.”

“Well, Vanya might want to sit and talk for a minute,” Luther pointed out.

“She won’t. We have plans.”

“Maybe she hasn’t had breakfast yet.”

“Then I guess she’s eating in the van.”

Luther frowned. “I just cleaned the van. It’s better to eat here.”

“Oh my God, dude,” Ben told him, though he couldn’t hear it. “Allison and Vanya can’t help you with your onion problems, either. Leave them alone.”

Klaus hooted and raised his toast in the air. “Onion conundrums!”

The rest of the room turned to look at him, except for Mom, who continued folding laundry in blissful ignorance.

“Onion conundrums,” Klaus repeated, like that ought to clear up any confusion.

Ben shook his head. He needed to be visible for _both_ of their sakes.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 7:36 a.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Courtyard**

**Temperature: -190648489** **°F**

Klaus slipped his cigarette between chattering teeth and took a long drag, then immediately burst out coughing.

“Maybe you should quit for a few days,” Ben suggested from his seat at the patio table.

“Maybe you should mind your own freaking business,” muttered Klaus.

“Maybe I should give them more mulch,” Luther called across the yard. He was kneeling on the frozen ground in front of his onion patch. “Do you think that would do anything?”

Ben tilted his head back and stretched out his limbs like he was tanning in his chair. “He really needs to find a new hobby for the winter.”

Klaus eyed him with envy as he hopped in a circle to stay warm. Even he knew it was too grim of a thought to say out loud, but being dead had its benefits.

Dave phased out of the house through a wall and strolled over to join them.

“Stay out here a few more minutes,” he advised. “Five and Diego got in an argument about who used all the hot water and they woke Allison up, and now they’re arguing about who started yelling first.”

“Diego,” guessed Ben.

“Yeah.”

Klaus hummed a few notes. “I scream, you scream, we all scream for—“

He coughed so hard he saw stars.

“Ah, fuck, I can’t even smoke this!” he croaked. He tossed his cigarette on the ground while Dave made sympathetic nonsense sounds behind him. “This _sucks_. This is the _worst day.”_

“You almost saw the world end,” Ben reminded him.

“THE WORST DAY!”

“What’s going on?” Luther called across the yard. He was sitting back on his heels, watching Klaus with a worried frown. “Are you alright?”

Klaus wheezed out a sigh. “Yeah. Dandy.”

“Okay.” He studied his face for another beat. “What do you think about the mulch, though? I don’t want to use too much, but—“

Klaus rubbed at his temples. He really, _really_ needed a cigarette.

{}{}{}{}{}

‘Favorite’ was a forbidden word.

Having a favorite of something meant that there were other somethings that you liked less, and Grace was intended to be grateful for each and every gift Sir Reginald had given her.

And she was. She was grateful for the children she had been created to love, and for her cross-stitch supplies, for her cookbooks and magazines and the pearl necklace she was supposed to wear when they had visitors.

She was very grateful for her turquoise sweater. It wasn’t her favorite, of course. It was only the one she was the _most_ grateful for. It had a large golden button on it in the shape of a rose, and she liked to touch that button and think of the outdoors.

The outdoors were also forbidden.

Or, well. They _had_ been.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 8:28 a.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Front Steps**

**Panic Mode: Engaged**

Vanya pressed the doorbell and waited.

And waited.

She wrapped her arms around herself to brace against the freezing gusts of wind. It was strange that it was taking so long for anybody to answer, wasn’t it? She hoped nothing was wrong.

Then Allison flung the door open wearing her PJs and no makeup, and Vanya _knew_ something was wrong.

“Oh, Vanya!” She sounded a little out of breath and a lot frazzled. “Here, come in, we just—you didn’t see Mom outside, did you?”

“Uh…no?” Vanya stepped into the house and balled her scarf up in her hands. “Should I have seen her?”

Allison let out a shaky sigh. “No, but it would make everything easier.” She tugged at a lock of her hair. “We can’t find her.”

Five appeared at the foot of the grand staircase with a loud crack.

“Not in the east wing,” he announced. “You checked the basement?”

“Yes,” said Allison, and she bit her lip.

“Ah. Well, then that’s everywhere.” Five shoved his hands into his pockets. “She left.”

“Does she do that now?” Vanya looked between the two of them, curious. “Leave the house? I didn’t know.”

“She never has before, but I see no reason why she shouldn’t.” Five threw a pointed glance at Allison. “She has maps of the city uploaded into her brain, you know. I read it in one of Pogo’s maintenance logs.”

Allison touched a hand to her forehead. “Okay, great,” she sighed. “Let’s see how that news goes over.”

Not well, as it happened.

“She doesn’t need a fucking map, she needs a chaperone!” Diego snapped once they’d found him and Klaus in their father’s study. “What the hell good is a map going to do when she’s getting mugged?”

Klaus looked up from the surveillance equipment, where he was mashing buttons at random.

“Whoever mugs her is going to be sorely disappointed,” he noted. “She doesn’t have any money.”

…Shoot, he was right. Did Mom even understand how money worked? If she’d gone to a corner store to pick up a forgotten dinner ingredient, for instance, would she know she needed to pay for it?

“Maybe we should start looking for her around the neighborhood,” Vanya suggested uneasily as Luther drew up next to her. “I mean… how far could she have gone?”

“Excellent fucking question!” Diego glared at Luther and flung out his arms to indicate the screens and tapes and other ephemera in the corner of the room. “Our state-of-the-art home security system here could probably give us a clue, _if it was turned on!”_

“But… turning it off was your idea,” Luther said with a hint of defensiveness. “You said it was an invasion of privacy. Remember?”

Diego looked ready to leap out of his seat, but then Klaus laughed too loud and draped himself over his shoulders.

“We all say a lot of things,” he dismissed breezily as Diego tried to shrug him off. “For example! Right now, Ben is saying we should focus on finding Mom.”

“Right.” Luther rubbed at the back of his neck. “We can go look around the neighborhood, I guess.”

“You guess,” Diego reiterated.

“Yeah.” He frowned. “She’s probably fine. We can double check, but I don’t think we need to panic or anything.”

“She has maps,” agreed Five.

Diego ground his teeth. Vanya winced. If there was a worse sound in the world than that, she didn’t want to know about it.

“You spent the whole morning freaking out over onions,” he said, his voice trembling with anger, “and you ‘guess’ that we should make sure our own mother is still alive?”

 _Onions?_ Vanya wondered.

Klaus hummed and rested his chin on top of Diego’s head. “Was she ever truly alive to start with? There’s a philosophical question for you.”

Diego jerked his elbow into Klaus’s gut. Klaus sneezed on him in retaliation.

“What does one have to do with the other?” There was a hard edge to Luther’s voice. “Mom is smart, and she knows how to take care of herself. She can go out places if she wants.”

“And unlike onions, she has maps,” Five reminded them all.

Diego clenched his fists over his knees. “Fuck your onions!” he hissed.

God, but _what onions?_ Vanya looked to Five, who simply shook his head.

Allison slipped around Luther to stand between him and Diego. “Alright,” she soothed. “Let’s stay on task, here. Where are we going to start looking?”

“Oh.” Luther’s brows creased. “Well… I guess we can just sort of drive around and—“

“OH, no,” Diego cut in. “No way are you taking charge here, genius. This is too important for you to fuck up— _I_ am running this operation.”

Maybe it was her imagination—or a subconscious manifestation of her powers—but Vanya could almost see the crackle of tension in the air. She edged away nervously, and Klaus cringed in the background. Allison’s face stayed neutral, but Vanya could tell she was working at it.

Five just looked bored. No effort required.

Luther stared at Diego for a long moment, his face shuttered.

“Okay,” he said finally. “What do you want me to do?”

Vanya’s mouth parted in surprise.

Diego’s plan was solid, really. He was going to search the nearest clothing stores, since Mom had said something about a sweater that morning. Five would scope out the park up the street, as she’d once expressed an interest in going there, too. Luther and Allison would trawl the neighborhood in the van, keeping their eyes peeled for any places she might have a reason to visit.

“What about me and Ben?” asked Klaus.

“You stay here. As soon as we get done looking in one place, we’ll call the house before we go to the next one, and then you keep everybody updated that way.”

Klaus crossed his arms over his chest. “So I’m the lookout, but in reverse.”

“It’s not the lookout. It’s… the command center.”

“Giving it a cool name doesn’t make it a cool job!”

“I’ll do it,” offered Vanya. “I’ll stay here and answer the phone.”

She had neither an assignment nor a car, and she wasn’t looking forward to riding around with an on-edge Diego while he ground his teeth. Klaus was better suited to talk him down, anyway.

And. Well. She’d never participated in a mission before. Better to start small.

“Fantastico!” Klaus held up his hand for a high five. “Even numbers road trip!”

Diego grunted and stomped out of the study.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 9:01 a.m.**

**Location: In Transit**

**Destination: Undetermined**

“Do you think she’d go to a record store?” Allison asked as they cruised by one. She frowned. “Does Mom listen to music on her own?”

“I don’t know,” said Luther.

“Hm. How about the florist? She puts flowers out in vases sometimes.”

He shrugged. “We can check.”

Allison watched the passing scenery through the window. It was funny, she thought, that after knowing her for most of her life, she couldn’t name a single interest her mother had. Not ‘ha-ha’ funny, but… ‘pathetic’ funny. ‘I’m-a-piece-of-shit’ funny.

Claire would never have this kind of guilt about their own relationship, at least. Claire didn’t see her often enough to take her for granted.

Allison shifted uncomfortably and glanced over at Luther in the driver’s seat. He would usually be asking her what was wrong by now, but he was closed-off and oblivious just then. Lost in his own world.

“Diego’s in rare form today, huh?”

He shrugged again. “He’s worried about Mom,” he said absently. “He says all kind of things he doesn’t mean when he gets upset. You know how he is.”

Allison cocked an eyebrow. She did know how Diego was, but she hadn’t expected Luther to ever figure it out. Diego had always been Number One at riling him up.

What was bothering him, then?

“We’re all worried about Mom,” she tried.

Luther’s mouth tightened into a frown. “Yeah, of course. I just… It’s not like she needs our permission to leave the house.”

Allison twisted in her seat. “No, but I think we’d all feel better about it if we knew where she went. A note would have been nice.”

Luther glanced at her. “Nobody else leaves notes when they go out.”

“True.”

“Yeah. And…” His hands flexed on the steering wheel. “I think that we should back off of her a little bit. Just… wait a while longer for her to come home. This seems like overkill.”

Allison studied his face. He looked pensive.

Huh.

“You think?” she asked mildly.

“I do,” he said with conviction. “She’s not a prisoner. And I think that if you treat people like they can’t be trusted to make their own decisions, sometimes they start believing you’re right. And… that’s just another way to keep someone trapped, isn’t it?”

He scratched at his nose, which had flushed red. “Or, you know. Whatever. Uh. So, the florist?”

Allison stared at him in surprise. In all of her wildest imaginings, she’d never thought she’d see the day when _Luther_ took a stand for personal freedom.

It was… inspirational, in its own way.

“You know,” she said. “Now that I think about it, I can’t see Mom going to buy flowers. Let’s check out the next block.”

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 9:01 a.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Kitchen**

**Recommended Daily Intake of Caffeine: <400 milligrams**

Diego rarely drank coffee, but today, it was a necessary evil.

He had just drifted off to sleep when Allison came knocking on his door to ask if he knew where their mother was, and he couldn’t afford to be punchdrunk on the job. Not when the stakes were this high.

Not when this was all his fault to start with.

Klaus hopped up onto the counter next to where he stood at the sink and thrust a spatula in his face.

“So, tell us, Diego: How does it feel to finally be the leader? Is it everything you hoped and dreamed?”

He rested the spatula against his own mouth and raised his brows in expectation.

Diego tried to give him a dirty look, but the effect was somewhat ruined by a yawn. “I’m not in the mood for any of your shit today, Klaus. And if that’s supposed to be a microphone, you’re doing it backwards.”

Klaus yawned, too, then held the spatula back out to him. “Ooh, a man of action, _j’approuve!_ Can you tell the viewers at home where our first stop is, or is that classified?”

Diego clenched his jaw. Partially out of annoyance, and partially to stifle a second yawn.

“I could figure out an itinerary if you’d shut the fuck up and let me think for two seconds. And that still isn’t how microphones work.”

“Look at that, folks!” Klaus announced to the refrigerator. “He’s an expert on knives _and_ audio equipment! He goes low-tech, he goes high-tech, what can’t he do?”

Diego grabbed the spatula from his hand and winged it across the room.

“Jeez, I was just trying to lighten the mood a little. String me up, I guess.” Klaus made a ‘hyack _hyuuuh’_ sound halfway between a cough and a yawn. “Ben is suggesting we start at Gimble Brothers. And by that I mean he’s in my ear yelling ‘Say Gimble Brothers!’ over and over.”

Diego slammed his coffee mug into the sink, and Klaus kicked out his legs on reflex.

“Stop yawning! You’re making me yawn!”

“You yawned first,” Klaus said petulantly. “I learned it from you.”

He was not going to yawn again. He _wasn’t._ Even though he’d been thinking about yawning and hearing the word ‘yawning’ and watching someone else yawning, he was not—

“Ha!” Klaus pointed at the empty space to his left. “Now you’ve got Ben doing it!”

Diego glowered at him. He was going to have _two_ dead brothers before the day was through.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 9:19 a.m.**

**Location: Community Park & Playground**

**Fine for Littering: $100**

Gazing up at the bare branches of the trees, Five reflected that he ought to visit the neighborhood park more often.

It had been a real dump when they were children, but the city must have invested in sprucing the place up at some point. There was a designated area to walk dogs now, and the playground equipment no longer looked like a lawsuit waiting to happen. They’d installed a gazebo, currently strung up with wreaths and red ribbons. The picnic tables were new.

He looked down at the water lapping at his waist.

This pond hadn’t used to be here, either.

{}{}{}{}{} 

**Time: 9:30 a.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Main Entrance**

**Decibels: 41.2**

Vanya sat on the steps, jiggling a leg and biting a fingernail.

It had occurred to her, once everybody had left, that she should have clarified which phone they would be calling.

There was the one here in the foyer, but there was also one in the kitchen, one in the library, one in their father’s study, and one in Pogo’s abandoned office. She thought she’d be able to hear them all ringing from where she sat, but she’d called each one from the foyer phone just to check.

Then she’d realized that while she was doing that, she might have been tying up the line while someone else was trying to get through. And if that was the case, she’d already completely bombed manning the command center.

She dragged a hand through her hair.

Missions were _stressful._

There was a sudden crack and a blinding blue light, and then Five was standing in front of her, dripping water all over the floor.

“Hi.” He frowned. “Why are you just sitting there on the stairs?”

“I’m waiting for the phone to ring.” Vanya paused. “Why are you all wet?”

“I accidentally jumped into the middle of a pond.” He rocked back casually on his heels. His shoes squelched. “Feel free to laugh.”

She did. A single timid ‘ha’ that echoed off the marble walls.

Five nodded in satisfaction. “Alright, I’m off to shower. Keep this between us if you value your life.”

He vanished.

Vanya resumed biting her nails. She’d be able to hear the phone over the water running, right?

{}{}{}{}{}

The outdoors were dazzling.

There were people and buses and billboards and dogs. Carts selling pretzels and shops selling books, color _everywhere_ and more sounds than Grace could process at one time. There were trash cans on the street corners, and she had seen a boy wearing rollerskates.

She wanted to linger and inspect everything. Read all of the signs, and sit on a bench to watch strangers’ lives unfold around her. But there would be time later.

The store was easy to find—the address was printed right on the receipt Pogo had saved, from all those months ago—and Grace delighted in the jingle of the bell above the door.

So she opened and closed it again, and then a third time.

How cheerful!

“Ma’am?”

A middle aged woman in a smock was regarding her over her glasses from behind the register.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh, yes!” Grace approached and put her bag on the counter. “I’d like to return this, please.”

The woman pulled out the skein of wool and examined the slip of paper accompanying it.

“Oh. You bought this a while ago, huh?”

“Someone else bought it for me,” Grace explained. “It wasn’t quite the color I wanted, you see. He was going to return it himself, but instead he went to study birds in the Galapagos Islands.”

The cashier raised her eyebrows.

“No one has seen or heard from him since July.”

“…Right. Well, our policy is usually that you have to bring things back within ninety days, but we’ve still got this in stock, so I’ll make an exception.”

She hit a few keys on the cash register. To Grace’s disappointment, none of them dinged.

“Do you want cash, or store credit?”

“Oh. Well, that depends.” Grace smiled and folded her hands on the counter. “Do you sell buttons?”

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 9:45 a.m.**

**Location: Gimble Brothers Department Store, Second Floor**

**Discount When Using Rewards Card: Up to 10%!**

Ben aimed an annoyed kick at a cardboard mascara display. His foot passed right through it without so much as a rattle.

He’d walked around the department store’s second floor twice, and he could confidently say that Mom wasn’t there.

He could also say that Klaus and Diego weren’t there, which was a problem, because they were supposed to rendezvous in cosmetics.

Typical. Diego always had to be the maverick, even when he was also being the leader. It was Klaus, though, who was really pissing him off—what good would it do them if Ben found Mom, but couldn’t find a living person to tell about it? Klaus just didn’t _think._

At least Dave had his back. Someone else who cared about responsibility, and order, and following basic fucking instructions.

“That lady’s stolen four bottles of perfume so far,” Dave observed.

He was lounging against the makeup counter with his chin in his hand, watching a woman with an enormous handbag browse one of the displays.

“Look at her—she’s not even being sneaky about it, she’s just sticking ‘em right in her purse.”

Ben frowned at him.

“What does she need so much perfume for?” Dave wondered out loud.

“I don’t know. Maybe she smells.” Ben fiddled with his zipper. “Should we go see where Klaus is? I think we should go see where Klaus is.”

Dave shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only been a couple minutes. I figure we can wait a couple more.”

The woman opened another box, and he leaned forward with interest. “Man, what is she _doing?_ At first I thought maybe she’s one of those people who tries to sell you stolen stuff in the subway, you know? But check out her outfit—she looks like she’s got money.”

Ben cleared his throat. “I still think we should go look for him.” Pointedly, he added, “In case he got distracted.”

“Sure, if you want.” Dave’s eyes stayed glued to the perfume bandit. “You know where to find me.”

Ben threw up his hands and stalked off. So much for ghost solidarity.

He located Klaus on the ground floor, hovering over the jewelry case.

“Oh, Ben!” he stage-whispered when he spotted him. “Look what I found!”

“Unless it’s Mom, I don’t care, dude.”

Klaus stifled a cough with his elbow. “It’s a necklace with a violin charm on it! I’m getting it for Vanya.”

Ben groaned. “Diego’s going to fucking kill you. C’mon, you can’t take a break in the middle of a search and rescue mission to do Christmas shopping.”

“Oh my God, I’ve been here literally two minutes. Mea culpa, mea culpa.”

Klaus straightened up and beamed at the clerk behind the counter, who had been giving him the side-eye while they argued.

“Hello! You still sell things to crazy people who talk to themselves if they’ve got cash, right? I’ll take the violin necklace, and my invisible friend here can go track down our ride.”

“Vanya doesn’t even wear jewelry,” Ben said in frustration.

 _“Au revoir,_ invisible friend! Bring me news of Diego!”

“Are you okay?” asked the clerk.

Ben sighed deeply and headed back up the escalator.

“She’s up to seven perfumes,” Dave informed him cheerily as he passed by cosmetics again.

Diego was on the third floor, in housewares. Just… standing there, between the shelves of salad bowls and soap dispensers. Totally calm.

More than calm, Ben realized as he drew closer. Kind of zoned out, really.

He studied his face, distant and troubled and so unlike his usual self he could have been a stranger.

Ben would have given anything to be visible just then.

“It’s going to be fine,” he promised out loud. He wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to convince. “We’ll find her and everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

Diego turned his head a little to the left, almost like he’d heard him, or at least sensed that someone was there.

Then he ducked a quick hand into the front of his pants to adjust himself.

Ben made a face and took a step backwards. “Jesus Christ, dude. People can see _you.”_

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 9:52 a.m.**

**Location: Jubileez** **™**

**Final Score: 0**

Luther locked the van’s door and studied the flickering ‘b’ in the sign looming over the parking lot.

“I really don’t think Mom would go to an arcade.”

Allison flashed him a smile as she slipped on her sunglasses. “Me neither. But if we’re giving her some time to do her own thing, we might as well do ours. Come on! It’ll be fun.”

Luther glanced at the ground. There was a syringe crushed under the car tire. It looked… well-used.

“I’m not sure Diego meant for us to drive out this far.”

“What Diego doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

She looked at him for a moment, though he couldn’t guess what she might be thinking behind the dark glasses. “We snuck out here once, you know. When we were thirteen or so.”

Had they? Luther racked his brain, but came up empty.

“I don’t remember that.”

“You didn’t come.” Allison adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “It was Klaus’s idea. I think he was meeting up with somebody to buy drugs and he was too scared to come to this neighborhood by himself, but it ended being an amazing time. Like… magical, almost.”

There was another syringe on the ground a few feet ahead of them.

“Oh. Okay.”

He checked one last time that the van’s door was locked.

“It looks exactly the same,” Allison said as they approached the building. She gasped and did a funny little sideways hop. “Oh, wow, I just remembered that I beat Diego at Skee-Ball! He wouldn’t speak to me for days.”

Luther tried to muster a smile at her enthusiasm. He’d known his siblings didn’t always invite him along on their nighttime adventures, but he’d assumed that they were still going to their usual haunts. Griddy’s. The diner around the corner. The bowling alley.

Nice, safe, familiar places, not… this.

“And Five jumped _inside_ the claw machine to steal a stuffed penguin for Ben,” Allison went on, smiling. “Klaus was high as a kite—he lost at some fighting game and the screen said ‘YOU DIED’ and then we had to convince him he wasn’t actually dead.”

Luther looked at her askance. She laughed ruefully.

“Yeah, I realized as I was saying that how awful it sounds, forget that part. Oh! But this random boy sent a slice of pizza to our table for Vanya, though! Like some kind of preteen high-roller.”

A sharp boom reverberated from behind the building, and they both stopped in their tracks.

Luther turned to her. “Uh. Maybe it’s fireworks?”

“Nope!” Allison seized his arm and began pulling him back the way they’d come. “That was not fireworks and this was a bad idea, let’s go before we get murdered.”

He didn’t put up any real resistance as she tugged him along, but he did look over his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t we… I don’t know, do something?”

“Like call 911 from someplace that isn’t here? Absolutely!”

“But someone might be hurt, we can—“

“Call 911 from someplace that isn’t here.”

“No, I mean we should—“

“Call 911 from someplace that isn’t here.”

“Allison—“

She stopped and spun around so she was in front of him, then took his face in her hands.

“Luther,” she said firmly. “I love you endlessly, but declaring yourself a superhero doesn’t make you immune to bullets, and I have a kid. _Get in the van.”_

…Well. Hard to argue with that logic.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 10:13 a.m.**

**Location: Community Park & Playground**

**Goals Scored: 6**

Five strolled along the path from the park’s west entrance with his hands in his pockets.

There were men there selling Christmas trees, and he paused to watch them wrestle one into netting for a customer.

They should get one for the house, he decided. A small one. Tastefully decorated. No glitter.

Holidays didn’t mean much to the time-traveler on the go, but he was actually looking forward to this one. He wasn’t under any delusions that it would turn out like a Normal Rockwell painting, but it couldn’t go worse than Thanksgiving.

Klaus had eaten an entire bulb of raw garlic because Diego bet him he couldn’t, and had reeked for days afterwards. One of Ben’s cats had knocked a box of butter onto the floor next to the oven, where it had melted and effectively turned the kitchen into an ice-skating rink, and Luther had wiped out when he went to retrieve the carving knife. Five himself had gotten pulled over on his way to pick up Vanya, which led to a long argument with a traffic cop over the validity of his license and Diego’s car nearly getting impounded.

Things could only improve from there.

He turned away from the Christmas trees, making a mental note to bring the matter up later. Based on everything he’d read in Pogo’s notes, their mother should be perfectly safe and self-sufficient walking around the city, but he could put in a token effort at searching for her for his siblings’ peace of mind. Season of giving, and such.

Five jumped to the open, grassy area behind a row of willows, and pain bloomed almost instantaneously across his face.

“OH, SHIT!”

A young man in thermal athleticwear stood in front of him with his hand clapped across his mouth. A soccer ball rolled slowly past his feet.

“Oh my God, I didn’t see you,” he babbled. “Are you okay? Are you here by yourself? I’m so, so sorry, I swear I didn’t see you!”

Five wiped a finger under his nose. It came back bloody.

“Are your parents here?” the man asked in a panic. “Where’s your mom at?”

Five shot him a look of contempt. ”Nobody knows.”

He jumped away before the man could respond.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 10:24 a.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Main Entrance**

**Blood Pressure: Rising**

A phone rang off in the distance, and Vanya nearly tripped upwards on the stairs in her rush to answer it.

She skidded into their father’s study and grabbed it off the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Vanya!” Allison voice greeted her. “Just calling to let you know we haven’t seen Mom, but we’re heading down by the fire station to check there.”

Vanya drummed anxious fingers on the desk. There was nothing, to her knowledge, that Mom might be interested in near the fire station. Should she suggest a better place to search?

On the one hand, ‘the command center’ did imply an element of… well, command. But Diego had said very clearly that he was in charge, and she didn’t want to step on any toes. And Allison and Luther had more experience with this kind of thing than she did, and she didn’t want to come off as pushy, and… this was all so complicated.

“Vanya? You there?”

“Oh, yeah, I just… Um. Where are you right now?” She wound the phone cord around her finger. “Just because Diego’s going to ask when he calls. So.”

“Oh. I guess he is, isn’t he?” There was a brief silence. “Tell him we were at a record store.”

What, Vanya wondered, would their mother be doing at a record store?

She should speak up. Redirect them to a smarter place to look.

“…Okay. I’ll let everyone know.”

“Cool. Talk to you soon.”

The line went dead.

Vanya looked down at it woefully. She probably could have handled that better.

A sound in the hallway drew her attention, and she stepped out of the office to see Five cresting the top of the staircase.

“There you are,” he said. “I didn’t find Mom.”

Vanya squinted at his face. There was a smudge of dirt next to his nose, and—was that _blood?_

“Are you okay?” she asked in alarm.

His job had very literally been a walk in the park. What in the world had happened?

“Fine,” he said crisply. “You can tell Diego I’m not going back there, by the way. I’ve done my part for the day.”

…Oh. She _would_ have to be the one to tell Diego, wouldn’t she? And he’d always tended to shoot the messenger.

Vanya worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

No wonder Klaus hadn’t wanted to work the command center. The command center sucked.

A phone rang somewhere downstairs.

Vanya sprinted past Five to answer it with her heart in her throat.

{}{}{}{}{}

Out of all the wonders Grace had found beyond the front door so far, she liked the button bin the best.

It contained buttons of every sort imaginable, and it was a joy to scoop them up by the handful and let them trickle through her fingers. Like little winking bits of treasure.

There was no golden rose, but she had found a golden oval with a tree etched into it, and she rubbed her finger over its branches.

Yes. It reminded her of the great tree in the courtyard. This one would do nicely.

Grace held the button to her chest, and peered down into the bin.

There was a chartreuse button with flecks of glitter embedded inside. A lovely color, and it brought key lime pie to mind. Beside it was a white one with a pearly sheen. Didn’t it look just like her necklace?

That one was covered in gray velvet, the same shade as the tabby cat the children had brought home to live with them. Then there was the cluster of tiny opalescent beads, which made her think of the bubbles in the sink when she washed the dishes. A pink bow like the darling barrettes the girls had always wanted when they were small, and a red-to-yellow gradient disc, which reminded her of the sun.

Grace turned the golden oval with the tree on it over in her hands, and thought.

The wool she had returned was worth twenty-two dollars and eighteen cents. That was twenty-two dollars and eighteen cents that had been earmarked for her, to be spent on something she had asked for. In that sense, it had been a gift.

Each button only cost a quarter.

She reached back down into the bin.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 10:29 a.m.**

**Location: Gimble Brothers Department Store, Outside**

**Price of Steel: $0.40 per Pound**

Diego punched the glass wall of the phone booth.

“What the fuck were they doing at a record store?” he demanded. “That is the stupidest fucking thing I ever—And why didn’t you say anything about it? Jesus Christ, Vanya, you have a brain, _use it.”_

“Right. I… Sorry.”

Diego took a deep breath. In through his nose, out through his mouth. “Anything else I need to know?”

“…No?”

“Fucking wonderful,” he muttered, then hung up. A second too late, he realized he’d forgotten to say ‘goodbye.’

He rubbed at his eyes, which were gritty with exhaustion. He’d been up for something like thirty hours at that point, but there was no way he’d be able to sleep. Not until Mom was home safe.

Uninvited, his words from all those months ago filtered through his mind. _‘You can go anywhere you want.’_

Guilt hit him like a fist to the gut. Christ, what had he been thinking? There had just been so much other shit going on at the time, and he hadn’t really considered the logistics of it, and—and there was no excuse.

This was the woman who had rocked him in her lap all night when he had an earache. The woman who had never once gotten impatient when it took him a full minute to stutter out a request for a second helping of mashed potatoes. And he’d repaid her by telling her it was fine to just wander out alone into a world she knew nothing about.

 _He_ knew, though. How dangerous and unforgiving life outside the Academy could be. How frightening it was when you were by yourself, and nobody had ever prepared you to be that way. _He_ knew to be cautious with strangers and to avoid dark alleys and how to safely cross a street and—

In through his nose. Out through his mouth.

Klaus was twisted around in the car’s passenger seat, looking irked at something in the back.

“Oh, your opinion on that hasn’t changed in the last five seconds?” he asked as Diego opened the door. “Good to know, Ben, thank you.”

Whatever response he might have gotten was lost on Diego, but Klaus rolled his eyes.

“Buckle up,” Diego ordered. “We’re going to the thrift store on the next block.”

Klaus’s face lit up and he barked out a cough. “Ooh, I love that place!”

Diego glared at him. “You are not shopping. Understand?”

“Sure, sure.” Klaus waved a hand. “All business, no pleasure.”

Diego surged forward and grabbed his arm, a little rougher than he’d meant to. “I mean it,” he warned. “If you can’t be serious, I’m taking you home, hear me?”

Klaus made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth. “And then you’ll send me to my room without dinner?”

Diego tightened his grip. He hadn’t genuinely wanted to punch Klaus since they were fourteen and he’d pantsed him on national television, but right now, he was coming close.

Klaus must have sensed it, because his tone suddenly shifted.

“Okay, it’s out of my system now. I’ll be serious.” He gave a gentle pat to the hand that was squeezing his elbow. “For what it’s worth, though, I really think that Mom is fine. Don’t get yourself too freaked out, okay?”

Diego released him with a shove. “Fuck you, man,” he snarled. “Out of everybody, _you_ should know how much trouble someone can get into out here—“

“Oh my God, _robot drugs don’t exist!”_ Klaus sounded as annoyed as Diego had ever heard him. “What, is she going to get hooked on premium motor oil? Start popping magnets?”

He suddenly winced and glanced at the backseat. “What is with you today?” he demanded of thin air. “The first thing I’m doing when I can make you corporeal again is washing your mouth out with soap. Yowzerz.”

Diego ground his teeth. “There are literally a million ways for someone to take advantage of her—“

“What ways? We’ve already established she didn’t take any money with her, she’s basically indestructible, she doesn’t need food or shelter or anything someone could hold over her head—“

“She has valuable parts!”

“Valuable p—“ Klaus cut himself off and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay. So in this scenario, there are packs of rogue engineers roaming the streets looking for escaped robots to dismantle?”

…Well, when he put it that way, it sounded stupid.

“There are always people looking for scrap metal,” Diego grumbled. “Going through recycling bins and shit. Taking out… tuna cans.”

Klaus cast him a pitying look. “You need a nap.”

Diego turned the key in the ignition. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Put your belt on.”

Klaus coughed plaintively and strapped himself in.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 10:43 am.**

**Location: Bubbleland**

**Kloop’s** **Sriracha Flaxseed Crackers : Sold Out**

“This was my favorite place when I was a teenager,” said Allison, scanning the familiar room with fond eyes.

“They got this channel that played movies all day on Sunday, and I used to get a box of lemon candy from the vending machine and stay for as long as I could. Two days before we turned sixteen, I saw _Titanic_ for the first time, and it got to that scene where they’re at the front of the boat—and I made up my mind right then that I was going to be an actress.”

Luther drank in the sight before him. The setting of some of the happiest days of her youth, the place where her dreams had been born.

“It’s a laundromat,” he pointed out.

Well, yeah. But it was also free and easy access to a television. Or, mostly free. You couldn’t just sit there, of course. All she’d had to do was keep feeding change into an empty dryer, though, no biggie.

And, okay, the snack options had been sort of off-brand and weird, but the lemon candy was decent. Ish.

Also, Jack and Rose _both_ could have fit on that door.

Allison toyed absent-mindedly with her bracelet. This, she mused, was another one of those things that straddled the line between being a cherished childhood memory, and being flat-out bizarre. She had a number of things like that. They all did.

“Yeah,” she decided. “It’s a laundromat.”

“It’s…nice.” Luther was watching her from the corner of his eye like he was hoping for a hint at what to say. “We have a washer and dryer at home, but if I had to go to a laundromat, this would be, uh. This would be at the top of my list.”

Allison smiled to herself. Memories of Luther being a big, sweet goober were one of the few things that always held up under scrutiny. They were pure gold.

Maybe she was a bad daughter and a worse mother, but he never failed to make her feel like a rockstar sister. She needed that, sometimes. To feel like there was one relationship in her life she was getting right.

“If I tell you something terrible, do you promise you won’t repeat it?” she asked.

He nodded, all concern.

“One time I snuck out here and this guy had a football game on, and I rumored him into turning it off so I could watch the E! True Hollywood Story of Lindsay Lohan instead.”

His eyes widened a little.

“Yeah, I know.” She smiled regretfully. “I’m not proud of a lot of the things I used my powers for, but that was… a real low point.”

“You were a kid,” he reasoned. “You would never do that now.”

True. But she should never have done it then, either.

They lapsed into silence for a moment. Luther studied her with a vague frown, contemplative. Allison shifted restlessly under his gaze. She wondered if she’d finally found it—the thing that would change his opinion of her.

He leaned in a little closer. “Who exactly _is_ Lindsay Lohan?”

God, but she missed him when she was in L.A.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 11:09 a.m.**

**Location: Act II Secondhand Shop**

**Now Playing: Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer (12 inch club remix)**

If and when Klaus died and went to heaven, he imagined his personal version of paradise would look a lot like a thrift store.

There was so much to love. The savings! The tchotchkes! The old lady furniture! And oh, oh, _oh_ , the _clothing._

“Klaus! Put those down and focus! We’ve talked about buying used shoes, bro, you don’t have to live that way anymore.”

People who conflated dressing well with dressing expensive were suckers. If you truly had your own sense of style—if you chose your outfits based not only on how they made you look, but on how they made you _feel_ —the thrift store was the way to go.

“Now where are you—NO, not the ten-cent table! Oh my God, everything on it is literal garbage and we do not have _time_ for this!”

Every weird, worthless thing humanity had ever bought filtered down to these places eventually, and Klaus wanted to take them all home to treasure.

A bedazzled snorkel? Summer statement piece.

A night light in the form of Hulk Hogan’s face? Perfect conversation starter.

A plastic crown emblazoned with the words ‘Birthday Bitch?’ Diego’s present for next year.

Disney World could eat a dick— _this_ was the happiest place on earth.

“Oh, for the love of— _where are you going to wear a wedding veil?!_ Put that back and look for Mom!”

“I am looking for Mom!” Klaus muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “I can look for her and look at other stuff at the same time, you know. It’s called multi-tasking. You should get in on it.”

Ben snatched ineffectually at the veil. “You’re not looking for her, you’re getting distracted. Come on, Klaus, you promised Diego you’d be serious—“

Geez Louise, he was doing everything he’d been asked to do, and it wasn’t enough to satisfy the living _or_ the dead. Even Numbers Road Trip was turning out to be a major bummer.

“Do you want me to be serious, or do you want me to panic?” Klaus snapped. “Because I can run through this store screaming for Mom if that’s what it takes to make you happy. Don’t think I won’t do it, either.”

Ben just glared at him balefully.

Klaus sighed. “Look. I’m trying my hardest here, okay? Can you find it in your heart to give me the teensy-weensiest little bit of credit?”

Ben walked through him without another word, which was the biggest dick move in his ghostly arsenal.

Klaus tossed the wedding veil over the top of the rack. Despite his stuffy nose, he could pick up the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to it. Like a bloodhound on the trail.

“I should have just been the lookout,” he mumbled as he jogged after Ben.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 11:37 a.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Main Entrance**

**Partridges in Pear Trees: 1**

Five took a seat on the stairs and smoothed out the graph paper in his lap.

Vanya was on the phone with Diego again, and he was yelling loud enough that Five could almost make out what he was saying from six feet away—but he wasn’t interested in that.

Vanya’s knuckles were white where they clutched the telephone. Her face was drawn. She was wound tighter than one of the strings on her violin, and Five knew how that felt. He’d felt that way all the time when he’d first returned home.

His logical mind might have known that everything was fine, but it had been as though there was a hysterical, shrieking gibbon living in his brain’s basement, telling him that every person he loved, but was not currently looking at, was probably dead in a ditch someplace.

 _Maybe Klaus got hit by a bus on his way to the bakery,_ the gibbon used to say. _The ‘unidentified murder victim’ in the paper this morning is almost definitely Diego. Did Vanya not pick up your call earlier because a home invader has her tied up in a closet? Who cares if it’s one thirty in the morning, go over there and check._

It helped to find other things to focus on, he’d learned. Things that were within his control.

Vanya set the phone heavily on the receiver, looking exhausted.

“I want to decorate the house for Christmas,” Five announced.

She blinked up at him from the bottom of the steps. “You—What?”

“I want to put up Christmas decorations,” he repeated patiently, and tapped his pencil on the graphing paper. “Come help me plan them out.”

Vanya approached him slow and cautious, then sat down all at once, like she was expecting some kind of trap.

“Here’s the door… the windows… and the staircase,” he said, making a few quick sketches on the paper. He drew a large X on one side of the room. “And I thought we’d put a tree here. Name other decorations.”

Vanya stared at him.

Five waved a hand. “More Christmas shit. Go.”

“Uh… There’s… Santa?”

“Santa’s tacky. Keep going.”

She rubbed her palms over her knees and looked out across the room. She seemed distressed.

“Vanya.”

“I, um. There’s… lights? Christmas lights.”

Five hummed in approval and made a mark on the paper. They could weave them through the bannisters on the stairs. That would be festive as fuck.

“White lights, good. Go on.”

“…Colored lights?”

“This is a home, not a carnival. What else?”

“Rudolph?”

“Regular reindeer with regular noses, we are not doing fictional characters. More.”

Vanya twitched and looked over her shoulder. “Did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Five told her as he scribbled on the graph paper. “Here, look. We’ll get those wire reindeer and put them where I marked ‘R,’ what do you think?”

Vanya gave the inside of her elbow a reflexive scratch. “Was that the phone? I think I heard the phone.”

“Nothing happened.” Five brought the paper closer to her face. “Look.”

“Maybe in the kitchen…”

“You’re not looking.”

She glanced at the paper, her brows knit together. “I—Five, it’s great, but I need to pay attention to—“

“We should get poinsettias,” he interrupted. “Where should we put them?”

Vanya brought her hand to her mouth and started chewing a nail.

There. No more fretting over Mom—she was thoroughly distracted by the issue of poinsettia placement.

Five smiled inwardly. He was such a good brother.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 11:43 a.m.**

**Location: Crespi & Sons Appliance and Repair**

**Established: 1951**

The warehouse was shabby, and Luther would have thought it was abandoned if not for the truck backed up to the loading dock.

“You guys really used to come here?” he asked Allison.

“Only twice.” She smiled out the car window at the building. “We probably would have come more, but we needed Five to get in. They kept the doors locked, but they didn’t have security cameras, so, you know. It was perfect.”

She was looking at the place like it was a palace. All Luther saw was graffiti penises.

“So… what kind of stuff did you do?”

“Screwed around on the forklift, mainly.” She shrugged. “One night we had a contest to see who could climb the highest on the shelves. Klaus won, but he couldn’t get back down.”

“Oh.” He rubbed his thumbs over the steering wheel. “That sounds… incredibly dangerous.”

“It was,” she agreed happily. “Do you remember when Vanya broke her foot?”

“I think so. She dropped her violin case on it? Right?”

Allison laughed. “That was our cover story. What actually happened was that I knocked a microwave off the top shelf and it fell on her.”

Tiny Vanya, nearly brained by a microwave. Luther’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“Ben tried to give her a piggyback ride home, but he wasn’t really tall enough and he dropped her,” Allison reminisced. “Then Diego stepped on her hair.”

She twirled a lock of her own hair around her finger. “I should get her something really nice for Christmas.”

Luther twisted awkwardly in his seat to face her. “Allison.”

“Mm?”

“If you… if you’re really worried about Mom, all you had to do was say so.” He gave her a half-hearted smile. “We can get back to looking for her. I wouldn’t have tried to talk you out of it.”

“What?” she laughed. “No, I—Well, I _am_ worried, but I think you’re right about letting her be independent for a little while. She’s a smart cookie, she doesn’t need us smothering her.”

Then… what was this all about? Luther had thought she was trying to prove a point to him, about the trouble you could land yourself in—the trouble you could cause—when you were sheltered and naïve and suddenly found yourself unsupervised.

He wouldn’t have seen the danger on his own. He was still a little sheltered and naïve himself, he knew.

“Oh,” he said. “Uh… Why are we here, then?”

Allison’s brow furrowed. “Well… I wanted to show you all the things you missed out on, I guess. Which sounds really mean when I say it out loud, wow.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand.

“It wasn’t supposed to be rubbing it in your face,” she assured him, chagrined. “It was supposed to be, like… a ‘making up for lost time’ type thing. None of us have all that many good memories of growing up, and I just… didn’t want you to miss any.”

She smiled, a little sad. “Better late than never, right?”

Luther covered her hand with his own, and only thought for a second about how she would be able to feel the coarse hair.

“Thank you,” he said. He didn’t have a tongue for poetry and he didn’t have the vocabulary for all that gooey, emotional stuff, but he hoped his hand and a smile could convey how sincerely he meant it.

He paused before his next words. He probably shouldn’t say them. He knew he shouldn’t say them, they were only going to cheapen the moment, but… Good God, they needed to be said.

“Allison. You know that twelve-year-olds shouldn’t be driving forklifts, though, don’t you? I mean, that’s… that’s _crazy.”_

“Oh, believe me, I’m aware,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Speaking as a former twelve-year-old who has driven a forklift, even I was like, ‘This is a terrible idea.’”

“It’s illegal.”

“As it should be.”

“One of you could have gotten killed.”

“Five almost did, but he jumped away in time. Then he got back on it like two minutes later.”

“Oh my God.”

“Right?”

Luther rubbed at his forehead. To think, while he had been getting his eight hours of sleep every night, his siblings had been spending their evenings dodging microwaves and committing petty theft at arcades.

Did he need to get out of the house more often, or did they need to stay in it? There was no obvious answer.

“Okay,” he said. “Where do you want to go next?”

“Griddy’s? I never had breakfast.”

“Oh.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Um. Your diet, though. Remember, you said to yell at you if you try to eat anything unhealthy?”

Allison paused in buckling herself in. “I did say that, didn’t I? Oh well. You yell, and I’ll eat donuts.”

Luther turned on the ignition. “Okay.”

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 12:08 p.m.**

**Location: Hell**

**Miles per Hour: 25**

A sudden sneeze caught Klaus unawares, and he brought his hands to his face just in time to avoid spewing all over the windshield.

“Use your elbow,” said Ben.

“If you get me sick, we have a problem,” said Diego.

“Bless you,” said Dave.

Klaus sighed and wiped his hands on his pants. He normally loved hanging out with Ben and Diego like this, but today, he wanted to smash their heads together. Give them both wet willies. Purple nurples all around.

Diego was being a wiener, and Ben was being a nag, and Dave was being the world’s most perfect person by shutting up and giving him some space, but that one was a given.

“No dicking around when we get to the mall,” Diego told him as they pulled up to a red light. “If I so much as smell ice cream on your breath, you are getting fucking suplexed.”

Ben leaned forward. “Wait, the mall? Mom wouldn’t go there, it’s so far from the house. We should check those little boutique stores around the post office.”

Klaus coughed. “Ben thinks we should skip the mall and focus on places closer to home.”

“The boutique stores,” Ben specified. “Around the post office.”

Diego shot him a glare. “Does Ben say that, or do you say that?”

“Ben.”

Diego said… something in response, but it was impossible to make out over the yipping in his ear.

“Ben says we should look at the boutique stores around the post office! Tell him, Klaus!”

Klaus swatted a hand over his shoulder and looked back to Diego. “What was that now?”

“I said she would have seen ads and junk for the mall, so that’s where we’re going!” Diego barked. “Christ, I know _you_ talk just to hear your own voice, but I—“

“The boutique stores! Around the post office! Klaus, come on!”

“What are you looking at? Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m trying!” Klaus cried. “You’re both talking at once—“

Diego frowned at him. “Who’s talking? What are you babbling about?”

“BEN. BEN, OUR GHOST BROTHER, IS TALKING TO ME, THE PERSON WHO CAN SPEAK TO GHOSTS.”

“You don’t have to yell!”

“Yeah, dude. Calm down. And then tell him about the boutique stores.”

Klaus hit the roof. Literally.

“Don’t punch shit in my car!” Diego protested. “What is wrong with you?”

“YOU’RE WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME!” Klaus shouted. “You are being a GAPING ASSHOLE! You’ve been an asshole to me all day, and you were an asshole to Luther, and you were such a loud asshole to Vanya I could hear it from all the way in the car, and I could see it in your face that you WANTED to be an asshole to Five when he kept talking about maps earlier, and the only reason you held back is because you knew he’d punch you straight in the dick!”

Klaus threw up his hands. “I’M THERE, TOO, DIEGO! DICK-PUNCHING MAD!”

Diego brought up one knee to protect his lap, eyes wide with alarm.

“I know that you’re a Mama’s boy, and I know that you haven’t slept, and I’ve been trying my hardest to be nice to you, but guess what, Diego? Guess the fuck what?”

 _‘What?’_ Diego mouthed. He looked genuinely spooked.

 _“You don’t get to take it out on other people when you’re having a bad day._ That’s for toddlers, and you are an entire grown-up. ACT LIKE ONE.”

He whipped around to face Ben in the backseat. Ben clasped his hands in his lap and smiled nervously.

“AND YOU! LAY. OFF. ME. I understand that you got used to turning physical whenever you want, and now it feels like something’s been taken away from you, and it’s frustrating and it sucks and it isn’t fair, but BEN. CHILL. I’m not your secretary and you’re not my keeper, and unless I’m about to wander into traffic, you can keep your goddamn opinions to yourself, got it?”

Ben’s face crumpled in on itself. Klaus jabbed a furious finger at him.

“Don’t you DARE start crying, Ben! You always do this! You can criticize me all the livelong day, and then as soon as I turn it around on you, you get all mopey and I feel bad and then I apologize even when I know I’m right and—Oh my God, please don’t cry. Okay? I didn’t mean it, Ben, I’m sorry. Look, we’re laughing! _Hon-hon-hon!”_

Diego frowned at the backseat. “What the hell is going on?”

“I’m not crying,” said Ben, sounding heartbroken. “I’m not trying to—I didn’t mean to be annoying. It’s just, it drives me crazy when I can’t do anything to help anyone, and… Sorry.”

Klaus’s heart melted. His polar ice caps turned to slush. The arctic shelf of his anger broke into pieces against the hull of a freighter, and bobbed like ice cubes in the sea.

He was so thirsty. Freaking _cold medicine._

Klaus brushed his hand through Ben’s arm. “Oh, Benjamin Button Nose,” he sighed. “How can I stay mad at that face? You can keep sharing your opinions. But at a reasonable volume, and not fifteen times in a row, okay?”

“Is he honestly crying just because you yelled at him?” Diego asked. “Man up, Ben. Jesus.”

“Can you tell him I’m not crying?” Ben requested. “I don’t want him to think I’m crying. And also tell him about the boutiques stores, please. And—“

Dave leaned over and gave him the most gentle shushing that Klaus had ever witnessed.

“Ben. Buddy. You’re my favorite in-law, but you’re being a noodge.” He bopped an affection finger against Ben’s mouth. “And nobody likes a noodge.”

Shitburgers. _Dave._ He’d been so quiet back there Klaus had sort of forgotten he was in the car. And he’d never seen him lose his temper like this before.

It was a rare occurrence. Like a shooting star, or finishing a pasta dish without getting any tomato sauce on his shirt.

Klaus offered him a self-conscious smile.

Dave winked.

“Ben’s not crying,” Klaus announced with a sigh of relief. “Let it be known.”

“Okay.”

Diego eyed him warily. They’d had the green light for a dog’s age. Other cars weren’t even bothering to honk anymore, they were just pulling around them like they were a disabled vehicle.

“I,uh. I was short with you.” Diego thumbed at his nose. “I shouldn’t have been. My bad.”

“Very bad.” Klaus settled back into his seat. “The worst. You’re getting coal.”

“Yeah, okay.” Diego rolled his shoulders. “I know I should go to bed. But I couldn’t sleep if I tried. So. We’re doing this.”

“Sure. I feel you. I’m in it to win it, and all that jazz.”

Diego reached over and gripped Klaus’s arm. His face was grave.

“Let’s stop and get you some nicotine patches first.”

Klaus’s heart melted all over again.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 12:28 p.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Main Entrance**

**Days Since Last Accident: 23**

Vanya was going to die, and it was going to be Five’s fault.

If he didn’t stop talking and clattering around with a ladder and generally making too much noise to hear the phone ring, she was going to have an aneurysm.

If he fell off the railing he was currently standing on, he might be able to teleport himself to safety before hitting the ground, but her heart was going to stop.

Even if he quieted down and took a seat, Diego was going to murder her when he got home and realized she hadn’t told him he had abandoned the mission.

Lose-lose-lose, any way she cut it.

“Four feet and three inches from this direction,” he called from the top of the stairs. He retracted the tape measure, teetering on the edge of the railing. “Shit, who built this place? Why are all the dimensions so strange?”

“I don’t know.” Vanya squeezed her hands between her knees. Her nails were all down to the quick. Nothing left to bite. “Can you come down now?”

Five zapped himself to stand next to her.

“All the money in the world and he still went with a budget architect,” he mused, scanning the ceiling. “And we never would have found out if I hadn’t decided to put up tinsel.”

He shook his head and grabbed the ladder from where it leaned against the wall.

Vanya cringed at the clanking and scraping as he set it up next to the window.

“Five,” she called. “Maybe… maybe you could do that later?”

“No time like the present.” He pounded a fist on the ladder to set the bar in place. “I only have a few days left to get decorations and set them up. And I still need to buy a few more gifts.”

He jumped to the top rung and began measuring the space between the window and the ceiling.

“Oh, that reminds me.” He leaned backwards to look at her. The ladder wobbled. “Did you get a Christmas present for Dave? I suppose he’s family in a sense, but he’s also dead and Jewish. I’m unclear on the etiquette in this situation.”

“You know, I… hadn’t really thought about it—Five, you’re going to fall!”

There was blue light, and a crash, and the ladder was on its side.

Five leaned over her shoulder.

“Piece of garbage,” he said scornfully. “I’ll have to get a new one. Add that to the list so I don’t forget.”

Vanya pressed a hand to her heart, which was pounding in her chest like it was trying to escape.

“I… I didn’t know I was supposed to be making a list.”

Five looked down at her for a long minute.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked pleasantly.

Vanya straightened up in her seat, ears straining at a soft sound. “What was that?”

“Not the phone. How about this—we’ll get Dave a joint present. You pick it, though, I don’t know what he’d want.”

“Someone’s outside.” Vanya’s toes curled in her shoes. “If it’s Diego and Klaus can you just… can you tell them you only got here a few minutes ago? Please?”

“Sure.”

Five jumped to the front door. “I think he likes hockey,” he said, reaching for the handle. “I assume we have a hometown team, but hell if I know what their na—“

The door swung open, hard.

“OH, GOD _DAMN_ IT!”

Vanya’s breath caught in her lungs.

“Mom!”

“Hello, children!”

Their mother stood in the doorway, illuminated by the stark light of the winter afternoon. She was wearing her navy blouse and her green pencil skirt, lipstick pristine, golden hair perhaps a little ruffled by the wind. A plastic shopping bag in her hand, and a smear of mud on her shoe.

Vanya didn’t think she’d ever seen her looking more beautiful.

She closed the door behind her. “Are you alright, Five, dear?” she asked in concern. “I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t know you were standing right there, you see.”

He lowered his foot to the floor experimentally, then hissed.

“That’s a broken toe,” he said through his teeth. “Can’t win today no matter what I do. Don’t know why I tried. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”

He disappeared in a flash of blue.

Mom stared at the spot where he had been. “My, is he already going to bed? It’s only just past twelve thirty. Ah, well, you children always did like to take naps.”

She smiled at Vanya, bright and cheerful.

“Would you like some lunch, dear?”

Vanya raised a trembling hand to her forehead and closed her eyes.

“Is there anything left in the liquor cabinet?” she asked hoarsely.

{}{}{}{}{}

**Time: 2:14 p.m.**

**Location: Hargreeves Residence, Kitchen**

**Mission: Complete**

It took a while to get everyone back to the house.

Luther and Allison, who had gone more than an hour without calling to check in, showed up with donuts and a bag of mulch.

Ben relayed via Klaus that he was glad Mom was safe, and then said no more.

Klaus was still sniffling and sneezing, but he was also bouncing around and eager to tell everybody how many times he’d had to pinch Diego to keep him from falling asleep at stop signs.

Diego shuffled in looking like a zombie, and embraced their mother for a long time.

Finally, he let her go and took a step backwards. “Don’t ever do that again,” he ordered. “You scared us, Mom.”

“Not all of us,” Five muttered. He was cradling his bare left foot in his lap with a bag of ice. “I told you she had maps.”

Luther cleared his throat. “What he means is that you should leave us a note the next time you go somewhere.”

He was speaking to Mom, but holding eye contact with Diego. “Because you’re allowed to leave the house whenever you want. Just… tell us first.”

They stared at each other across the table. It was curt, and maybe a little begrudging, but Diego nodded.

“Why _did_ you leave?” he asked. He smoothed some of Mom’s hair back into place. “I told you I would get you a new sweater.”

“Oh, yes. And I’m sure it would have been a lovely one.” She patted his chest. “But, dear, I wanted _my_ sweater. It’s very nice, you see.”

Allison was nosing through her shopping bag at the other end of the room.

“Mom, how many did you buy?” She laughed in surprise. “This is so many buttons! What are you going to do with all of these?”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know.” She paused. “I’ll find something.”

Allison upended the bag.

Buttons cascaded onto the table in a clinking waterfall. Plastic ones and metal ones. Buttons covered with leather and buttons covered with tweed. Buttons shaped liked stars and buttons embossed with treble clefs and one in the form of a smiling orange octopus, no bigger than a fingernail.

Klaus turned to their mother with his hands on his hips.

“Does the store have any left?” he asked, sounding tickled. “Are you a magpie?”

She smiled. “Of course not, silly.”

Diego squeezed her hand to get her attention. “If you wanted buttons, you only had to tell me,” he said, his voice catching. “I’d buy you a million buttons, or anything else you want. Yarn, or thread, or… ribbons and shit.”

“Maybe you should lie down for a little while, Diego,” Allison suggested gently. “Or a long while. Play it by ear.”

“Yes, dear,” Mom agreed. She smiled and squeezed his hand back. “That’s what I’d really like. For you to get some rest. And to mind your language, please.”

Diego leaned forward and dropped a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Luther looked away, embarrassed, and Five rolled his eyes in disgust. Some families did kisses. Others had a basic sense of decorum.

After taking a few steps towards the door, Diego paused mid-stride, and looked over his shoulder.

“Vanya.”

Vanya, who had been sitting at the foot of the table with her head in her hands, looked up slowly.

“I just wanted to, uh. I thought I should say…” He scowled at her, like she was to blame for him getting tongue-tied. “Solid work on the phones. That, uh. That’s all.”

Vanya swallowed thickly. “Thank you,” she murmured, like it was the nicest thing that anyone had ever said to her.

Once Diego had staggered off to bed, Luther hefted the bag of mulch over his shoulder.

“Well. I’m going to go spread this outside.” He looked to where Allison was picking at the box of donuts. “You still want to come?”

“Yep!” She licked some glaze off her fingers. “Let’s go save the onions.”

He flushed with pleasure as she followed him out the back door.

“You shouldn’t eat any more donuts, though.”

“UGH, Luther, stop, I’m an adult, I can eat what I want.”

“But you _said—_ “

Mom was taking stock of the refrigerator, humming in the tuneless way she did. Flipping open the egg carton to count what was left and sighing over droopy lettuce, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

It was strangely soothing. To know that whatever chaos she may have caused, the day’s events were nothing more than a blip on her radar. To know that she was home, and preparing dinner, and that all was well in her world.

To know that she was safe.

“So!” Klaus snapped his fingers, then pointed finger guns at Five and Vanya. “Are we ready to go buy a car?”

“No,” they said in unison.

“Another time,” Five told him, and frowned down at his purpling foot.

“But… what am I supposed to do now?” Klaus asked in disappointment. “I didn’t clear my busy schedule and put on five nicotine patches just to sit around and wait for dinner.”

Vanya’s brows pinched in worry. “I don’t think you’re supposed to use that many at one time.”

“You’re not. It’s like I just smoked ten cigarettes at once, and let me tell you, it feels _great.”_

Five leaned forward. “How about you go buy us a Christmas tree? They’re selling them at the park.”

Klaus paused in cramming an entire chocolate donut into his mouth. “Go buy a Christmas tree? At the park? And drag it all the way back here on foot?”

“Did I stutter?”

“No, but don’t let Diego hear you say that.”

Klaus’s cheeks bulged around the donut while he chewed. He looked thoughtful. And like a chipmunk. If chipmunks wore eyeliner and too many nicotine patches.

“Okay,” he decided. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

He snatched Allison’s coat off the back of the chair she’d left it on. “Ben says he’s going to stay here and watch you cook, Mom, so show him how to make something good.”

“Oh, now nice. I was thinking we’d have lasagna.”

“He says—“ Klaus threw an exasperated look at something to his left. “He says he already knows how to make lasagna, and can you teach him to make ziti instead.”

“Oh.” Their mother set a baking dish on the counter, unperturbed. “Well, practice makes perfect. We’re having lasagna. Come watch, dear.”

Klaus stuck his tongue out at nothing and skipped away.

“That’s so weird,” his voice echoed down the hall. “Who needs that much perfume?”

Left alone with Vanya—and Ben, and their mother—Five examined his foot again.

“It’s going to be hard to get up on the ladder again,” he said.

Vanya made a vague sound of agreement. She looked almost as tired as Diego.

“So you’ll have to hold it still for me.” He got up from his seat and hopped a few steps. “Come on. We need to finish our measurements.”

Vanya blinked owlishly. “But… Five, the ladder is _broken.”_

He balanced himself against the table, face dark with umbrage. “And what?” he sniffed. “You think I’m going to fall?”

“Well… no, but… maybe?”

“Use the step stool,” Mom suggested.

“Not tall enough.” Five tried to bear weight on his foot, then did a poor job of hiding a wince. “Come on, Vanya.”

“I…”

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I’m only going to help you if we use the step stool,” she said resolutely.

Five glared at her. She glared back.

He muttered something under his breath and hopped over to the pantry to get the stool.

Vanya deflated with a long sigh. “I’m glad you’re back, Mom,” she said in a soft voice.

Their mother hummed as she set a pot of water to boil. “So am I, dear. Whatever would you children do without me?"


End file.
